Liaisons Dangereuses dessinée par Elie TOP

« After a decade marked by collections that have transcended time and space (from the infinity of the universe to Arthurian legends, passing through a timeless bestiary), I am now making a stop in the Age of Enlightenment.

Did someone say Enlightenment? To that I answer: Diamonds!

For it is indeed the diamond of which we speak: the dazzling heart of my voyage to Cythera. That ancient diamond, whose imperfect, hand-cut shape gives it such a distinctive, seductive, and moving brilliance. » - Elie Top

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Liaisons Dangereuses told by

Judith Benhamou-Huet

Garden of Versailles

I was walking through the geometrical garden

And as I got lost in its curves and corners,

I thought I had lost myself.

It was delicious.

We domesticate the trees here, turning them into drawings.

They call them “gardens in the French style.”

I thought, naively, that I could escape from this labyrinth,

whose center hides the most mischievous games. 

Les Liaisons Dangereuses 1960

But the garden’s design muddled my senses,

Just like your scintillating heart.

You know the one you carry dangling from a black ribbon…

The illusion of perception. 

It’s worth a closer look.

Believe me.

For your heart’s design is multilayered.

At its base, it flames gold,

Its precious curve reflecting the light. 

On its surface a demure silver mesh appears, alighted with diamonds. 

Royal Gate, Palace of Versailles.

I walked through the geometrical garden

and in the end, I found my way out. 

Night fell.

I arrived in the ballroom.

Feeling dazed.

With whom had I been dancing?

It didn’t matter. I waited for you. 

Hall of Mirrors, Palace of Versailles

All I could see were the sparkling pendants of the chandeliers

whirling around my head.

I was reminded once more of your heart

delicately studded with diamonds.

They call them “antique cut.”

These stones of the past contain histories. 

They play with undulating reflections

just like the chandeliers above my head which are dancing still. 

Marchioness Isabelle de Merteuil

Pleasure is guilty.

Boredom is never far off. 

Do you remember when Jeanne would say:

“We tire of everything my angel, it’s a law of nature”?

Which nature?

Maybe not this time. Who knows?

I’m waiting for you. 

I tremble.

You emerge from the shadows

cast by the veiled light of the candles suspended above. 

Queen Marie Louise of Bourbon-Parma, portrait by Anton Raphael Mengs, 1765.

Around your neck, the black ribbon.

On the black ribbon, your twinkling heart.

A heart in the French style.

Geometrical.

Your slender fingers echo the same motif,

in a triple ring structured like brass knuckles:

silver crossbars, a gold backdrop, an optical illusion,

and diamonds twinkling into infinity. 

Warping time in the anachronistic ballroom

Edwige Belmore

Blondie starts singing.

It’s her song “Heart of Glass.”

She sings the words, “I was losing my mind.”

And as I get lost in your curves and corners,

I think I am losing myself. It is delicious.

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